


Drapples On Colonel Autumn

by Vinctia



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Almost No Spoilers, Gen, Just stories on Colonel Autumn, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinctia/pseuds/Vinctia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very simply a series of random tiny stories I've made in the past and will make sometime in the future, about our dear Colonel Augustus Autumn. Some of them are old and I don't want to change the wording, but I'll remove wrongly placed commas and such stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's A Cold Autumn This Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Published on deviantArt on March 17, 2011
> 
> Also, does contain a spoiler concerning President Eden. I suggest you read this story after you've played the game, but it's up to you.

Across the barren wasteland, the devilish wind howled that day. It stirred up the sand and dust, moving it across the plains. Nothing was alive here. Every living plant was dead, and all that was left of green trees and soft grass was but a memory. A few tumble-weeds was all that remained as a reminder of the various plant life that had flourished there. An old road stretched across the Wasteland, its surface filled with holes and bumps. It had been a long time since anyone had been driving on it.  
A shadow followed a man who walked the lonely road. It was one of these days. He just needed to think.

He had no idea what season it was, whether it was Spring, Winter, Summer or Autumn. But he had a theory; the days were shorter than usual, and the wind didn't bite too much. It reminded him of the Autumn.

How ironic.

Life had been pressing as of late and Augustus did not approve of this. He had yet again disagreed with Eden, Post-USA's self-proclaimed president. How he could be president, he had no idea about. He was a bloody computer! An Artificial Intelligence, as they said.

'A bunch of scrap-metal if you ask me.' He thought to himself, as his boots clacked against the remains of the road. There was an old car at the side of the road. It was red. Colonel Autumn stopped at looked at it, curious.

'I wonder how the world was before all this...'

He walked over to the ancient piece of technology, resting at the road. It was covered in dust and sand, had several dents and its windows were gone. He took a look inside the contraption. Old magazines, trash, papers and plastic greeted his eyes. A pair of car keys nested on the front seat, as well as an old pack of cigarettes and a lighter. On the back seat was something he didn't expect: a teddy bear. An old dusty teddy bear, who missed its right eye, laid on its side against the seats. He reached to grab it and pulled it out of its prison.  
It was dusty and had a rip on its side, but it still had a lovely brown color and its remaining eye was still a dark brown, glassy color. For a brief moment, Autumn understood why children liked these ridiculous teddy bears; its fluffy feeling, its glassy eyes that seemed to care, the way its smile was frozen in a caring twist...

A gust of wind brought a sand devil with it across the road and Autumn looked up from his thoughts. The wind was cool as it blew its breath against his face, it caught the tips of his overcoat and blew them around his legs. His gloved hand closed around the stuffed animal and he walked away from the ancient car.  
There was something about that teddy bear that made him take it with him. Perhaps it was the fact that he never had one as a child, or perhaps he needed someone to talk with, to share his mind, without having to kill the person afterwards...

He sat on a stone, the little teddy bear in front of him on the ground. He stared at its lonely eye, knowing that it would never tell the secrets it had heard.  
'...Would you tell my secrets?' He pondered. Its smile was its lone answer to his question. He parted his lips to speak...

"...Colonel!"  
He opened his eyes. The cold metal ceiling of his room in Raven Rock greeted his eyes, and the shout of a soldier greeted his ears.  
"What?!" He yelled back, annoyed by the rude awakening.  
"We are having problems, sir! We need your presence!" He rubbed his eyes tiredly.  
"Fine, I'll be there!...incompetent idiot..." He mumbled, and sat up in his bed. He turned and looked at the desk, and his gaze was locked upon a drawer. He stood and walked to the desk and opened the drawer.

A lone, glassy, dark brown eye looked back at him, the frozen mouth smiling at him.


	2. Still Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Published on deviantArt on March 22, 2011.

He opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, everything was a blurred blue-gray mix. He wondered for a brief moment if he was alive...

... then the pain hit him like a spiked sledge hammer.

His back arched in pain, his jaw clenched, as his whole being was thrown into a spiral agony. It was unbearable. His painful roar echoed back at him. His eyes watered, his back arched in a painful position, his hands scraping at the surface beneath him.  
After what seemed like hours, painful long hours, the fire in his body finally began to die down. He trembled and shook from the after-shock. His mind was in a state of panic, trying to remember what happened before he woke up. Another part of his brain realized something horrible.

He could not feel his legs.

His fingers dug into the surface below him. For once in his life, Colonel Autumn was afraid. Afraid to look down.

The pain still pulsated through his body, it had but gone down a couple of notches. He lay there, gathering his breath with deep inhales. Something wet trickled down from his temple and into his hair. He knew what it was without looking.

Blood.

He would be covered in it if what his brain told him was true.  
He closed his eyes. He would die here.

An explosion sounded all too close to him, and the following shockwave send him rolling across the ground, and down a small hill. He moaned hoarsely, as the pain was reignited within his body. His tongue was coated in the disgusting metallic taste of blood. Black spots formed in his vision.  
"...no...no..." he whispered, trying to keep himself awake. His energy died down, his arms became heavy, his head started spinning.  
It was over.  
Darkness engulfed him.

The next hours, the Colonel passed in and out of consciousness, vaguely gathering what was happening around him.

"Oh my god... He's still alive..."

"Over here! The Colonel is over here!"

"Hang on, sir, we'll get you home."

"Give me a bloody IV here!"

"Don't you die on us, Colonel!"

"Colonel!"

...after that, it all went quiet and he slipped into a peaceful darkness, where the only sounds were his own breathing and his heartbeat.

The first he heard, was something beeping in tact with his heart.  
Muffled footsteps.  
Distant speech.  
The feel of a rough cloth draped over his body.  
A soft madras against his back.  
Cool air in the room.  
A slight sting in his head and torso.  
His eyes flew open. His gaze was met by an unfeeling metal ceiling, his vision only slightly blurred at the edges. His mind went back to the earlier situation. His eyes widened as he sat up in the bed, and pulled the blanket aside.  
His sigh of relief echoed in the room.

His legs were intact.

"Sir! You're awake!" A voice sounded from the door. He turned his iron gaze towards the person. A nurse. She seemed overjoyed that he was awake.  
"How are you feeling, sir?" She asked.  
"...What do you think?" He asked back at her, his eyes turning cold.  
"Uhm..."  
"Fetch something to eat and drink... And get me something against this goddamn headache!" He growled. She trembled.  
"Ye-yes sir!" She went off, obviously shaken by the hardness of his eyes. He sighed, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He looked down at himself, and frowned. He did not approve of his current clothing: a paper patient dress, or whatever those fancy medics called them.  
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling his head throb.

He was still alive.

And still surrounded by imbeciles.


	3. A Relieving bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Published on deviantArt on March 21, 2011

Minor Warning: Nudity. Don't like it, sue me (or just stop reading)  
  
"Colonel, you really need to see this..."  
"Sir, we have some security problems you need to see..."  
"Colonel Autumn, you need to sign this..."  
"Autumn, sir, we have some problems..."  
"Colonel, we need your opinion on this..."  
  
Autumn clutched his head, holding his hands over his ears, his jaw tightening.  
"Sir, we really need your opinio-"  
" **SILEN** **CE!** " He roared, stood and hammered both hands on the desk. The strangling silence that descended upon the room, was deafening. His arms shook slightly, his breath a tad heavy from the sudden outburst of anger. All attention was on him.   
His eyes ran slowly across every soul in the room. He moved away from the desk and towards the exit.   
"Sir? Where are you going?" A greenhorn asked behind him. He froze, and turned slowly to face the voice. The glare he send the novice was icy cold.   
"...I need _time_. To _think_. I do not wish to be _disturbed_ ," he growled the last word, his voice hard and cold as he went out of the room.   
  
He fell tired onto the madras when he entered his room, and had made sure the door was closed and locked. He rubbed his temples, feeling the stress gnawing at the back of his scull.   
What a day.  
And what a bunch of idiots he was forced to command and work with.  
Stress, annoyance, headaches, sore muscles... How he was still walking, he had no idea. He sat up in the bed, his boots planted on the ground and began to think. He quickly came to a conclusion: He needed a bath. A long, warm one at that. In a tub.   
  
After around 30 minutes of talking, shouting, yelling and nearly screaming himself hoarse with anger at various inhabitants of Raven Rock, including the morons that called themselves soldiers, Autumn finally got himself a tub. With steaming hot water.   
  
He nearly kicked the soldiers that had brought him the tub out of his room, giving them one last roaring warning of "If anyone **dares** to **think** of disturbing me, I'll personally rip that person apart, **limp** by **limp** and feed the remains to the dogs, while said person is still **ALIVE**!"   
The soldiers stumbled out of his room, fearing the wrath of their Colonel.   
Finally some peace and quiet.   
  
He unbuttoned the overcoat and let it glide off his shoulders. He placed it neatly on the bed, taking pride in his prized piece of clothing. He looked down at himself, and frowned upon seeing the state the rest of his cloths was in. He kicked off his boots, feeling the relief it brought to be free of those blasted uncomfortable things.  
  
Next was his shirt. He took no time to pry it off his torso, nearly ripping the buttons off it to get it off. He frowned at the sight of it: it was stained with sweat at the armpits as well as the back. He threw it into a corner, along with his socks that smelled worse than a public restroom's urinals.   
He stretched from the tip of his fingers to the tip of his toes, stretching his long, rippling arms above his head. His feet and toes flexed as he savoured the air that engulfed them, instead of mouldy, sweat-soaked socks.   
He sat on the bed to pry off the pants that clung to his long legs, and kicked them off to join the other pieces of clothing. He stretched again, feeling his aching muscles ripple beneath his skin. He felt a bone or two crack in his back.   
  
Age.   
  
He wasn't exactly as young as he used to be, and he could feel it in his muscles and bones, as well as see it on his face and hair. He was starting to get a few wrinkles here and there, and his hair seemed more gray than silvery these days. He knew he would miss the unnatural silvery shine his hair used to have, but there was nothing he could do about it. Death would take him at some point. That was certain.   
But he still had his cold, steel-grey eyes that instilled fear and respect in his enemies and inspired courage in his men... when he felt like it.   
He rubbed his eyes. He was getting too old for this.   
  
After discarding his boxers, kicking them over to join the stinky pile of wasted clothing, he stepped into the hot water, sighing happily when seated properbly against the side of the tub.   
God in Heaven it felt good. Only thing he needed now would be someone to work out the knots in his back, neck and shoulders, but that was a minor concern. He was quite sure that the knots would work out on their own with help from the heavenly warm water. He slipped deeper into the water, so only his head was above the surface. The rest of his body was bent beneath the water; it wasn't exactly the biggest bathtub, but he didn't care and he didn't complain. He would stay in it until the temperature dropped, as he didn't give a damn about his skin getting wrinkly.  
  
This was a piece of heaven, enjoyed in a very convenient situation.   
  
It was a good deal of time before Colonel Autumn got out of the water. It was absolutely Heaven to be in a nice, clean, hot bath.   
The water didn't stay hot, however, and he had to get out of the tub less he wanted to become cold. He stretched once more, feel much better than before. He left wet footprints as he went to gather a new set of fresh cloths, the water coursing down his still lean body. He reached for a towel he had left beside his fresh clothes, and dried himself off before redressing himself.   
  
What the inhabitants of Raven Rock saw when the Colonel returned from his room, was a determined, less annoyed and completely different man than the one who left them. He took his time to answer the questions, stated his opinion, signed the papers and looked at whatever the incompetent morons that called themselves soldiers wanted him to see. He was still a bit bitter, but much less angry than before.  
  
A bath really does change a man, if only slightly.


End file.
